#for jack!

[ofbluemuses]

@corvusrequiem​

song starter  ⊳  “ like real people do ” by hozier

     “ I will not ask you where you came from        I will not ask you, neither should you“

[monarchisms]

💌 I love love love your blog. You're one of my favourite people I follow!

thank you!! you’re one of my favorites, as well! i looove your fics!!

[send me a 💌 with a confession!]

[yuppied]

@rekant​ / liked!

     "Do you guys have ice?" A beat. "Like a cup of ice—? That I can have?"

He’s playing that game, where you ignore all the things that seem a little bit off about a situation. Dirt on his pants? Five points. Rumpled clothing? Ten points. The bruise blossoming under his right eye? A whopping fifty points. And the fact that he’s ignoring it all with a smile (small as it may be) is deserving of an extra twenty points, he thinks.

Eighty-five points aside, it’s fair to say this isn’t his best moment. In fact, this is fifty minutes after his best moment, when he was getting ready to close the arcade for the night and secure another day’s pay, and ten minutes after his worst moment, when a couple of kids in the arcade weren’t keen on leaving and made sure he knew. Right now he’s swimming in that lukewarm moment. He managed to close the arcade, but not without meeting a surprisingly hard left hook.

Doesn’t matter, he’s here now, standing in this diner, playing a game he’s just invented in the last five seconds. And winning, by his standards.

He doesn’t even know if giving out cups of ice is something diners do, but the nearest fast food chain is a mile away and the nearest gas station is even farther. He would’ve looked into it if his phone hadn’t died on the walk here (hey Siri, are diners charitable with their ice?).

(On the off chance they aren’t:)

     “I can pay.”

[ribleyscotcha]

@rekant.

    richie’s gonna tip the waitress good, -doesn’t matter that she hasn’t been over to the table yet, not even to deliver a glass of water. it’s raining real heavy out, and after tracking mud into the place, she feels she owes something for being a mess. whatever, it’s only money. getting stranded really works wonders for any materialism you might’ve once had. 

[nxghtlight]

{ @themooncalledus }

It was a bit of a struggle to get Nightlight into the dorm shower— well, actually, that was putting it mildly. Nightlight bit and scratched like a cat when he’s cornered, even if washing up would be for his own good, and those noodle limbs make any attempt to grab him up twice as ridiculous.

‘No soap—‘

Finally under the stream of the water, he goes quite limp, mouth still locked around the taller boy’s left shoulder as he makes a soft rumbling noise. At least Jack hasn’t been majorly harmed; even through the nips and swats the moonbug had been careful not to break skin.

Sometimes it feels like he makes things difficult for himself on purpose.

[seelieisms]

the ice in his drink sparks against glass that weeps fat tears of condensation. his hand is slick and cold, gleaming wetly when he sets the pink lemonade down and slides damp fingers through his hair until it curls gently behind his ears.

“it’s already starting to feel like spring again,” he comments idly. outside you could smell the air thickening with pollen from swollen flower petals that hadn’t even been kissed by a frost this season. they never truly died and had the funny swirl of bursting heat from the south kissing them rosy. but the few chills that did slip through had caused the bees to wander elsewhere and so they were left with all these flowers with only birds to relieve them of their nectar and pollen.

“but it’s too early. do you know i haven’t even worn all my sweaters! and i have so many but it hasn’t been COLD enough for them!”